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When people talk about sex I remain quiet, as if shame would expose me for discovering, all the things I did with myself, from that very early age and the pleasure my pussy gave me.
Daddy would bath myself and my younger brother in the same tub and he suspected when I guided his soapy hand into my crotch, that I was being pleasured. It was an innocent journey of discovery that my own fingers, then my brother’s cock, when he slept, I continued with as we shared the same big bed, long after he went to his own bed and slept.
The saying goes, Curiosity killed the cat’, to which I added, ‘my funny feelings, brought it back’, those early funny feeling were obviously orgasms and I was being blessed by having them, almost at will, and with whomever I as with.
‘Variety is the spice of life’, and my feminine fertile mind was alive with opportunities and scenarios that firstly made me wet with excitement and only gratified as I pursued them to fulfillment.
The old man on the first landing of the close in which we stayed, would enjoy the show I gave him when I came home from school, long before some other woman went online and refereed to ‘Upskirting’, I was letting him see me as I walked up the stone stairs to our landing, with my panties in my schoolbag and my school skirt waistband turned up a few turns, I was convinced he could see my bum cheeks by the second step and my pussy by the third one.
He knew as I did, it was just a matter of time before his cock would be finding pleasure in there, between my thighs, ‘Fucking Jail Bait’, he called me and I responded by turning on the landing above him, and pulling my vaginal lips and outer labia apart and pissing down the stone steps to where he wanked himself, looking up into the girlish pinkness of my inner cunt, seeing my finger abuse my swollen clitoris.
After that scene, I would pass his open door, an invitation to go inside, where he sat naked and let me pleasure him with my mouth, cunt, and ass.
Men imagine their mothers and sisters then their daughters in sexual scenarios, but can never really imagine what they are truly like when it comes to sex and they surrender to it.
Christian sex is a one on one but dirty sex is where the woman is outnumbered and taken by each man in turn, and better still, if she forbids it but thee men do it regardless if her whining and begging, stolen sex has such a pleasure to it, taking something that is forbidden or i*****l, like young sex is physically draining and orgasmically out of this world, this is the only description I can find to explain my reasons for doing what I allowed strangers to do to me, I was never harmed, because my enthusiasm and willingness to go along was seen by those men as a person for future pleasures.
I joined the guides for the summer camping with the scouts and one Sunday I sat in my local park in my blue uniform practicing my knots, the ‘reef knot’, ‘the sheepshank’, used for shortening longer lengths.
I was alone and in an isolated part, partially hidden from view but only visible from a small dirt path that dog walkers and men of dubious character might take to catch a girl innocently exposing herself so they could reciprocate by wanking themselves for her benefit, that might explain why so many are where they should never have been in the first place when it all goes horribly wrong.
In order to get to me, he would have to walk to the white of my ‘V’, the crotch of my panties as I sat with my legs open just enough to entice and project innocence, men like to be aggressors and for me, it’s the difference between a hard or limp cock.
He had assured me he was a knot specialist and I handed him my silk chord of several meters length. Feeling him knot my wrists behind my head then feed the end down my tunic at my back and pull it against the darkening stain of my panties, where I wetted uncontrollably and back up my front, between my nipples, by now hard and rubbery as he had opened my top all the way down, unclasping every button, until the only decency on me was my panties, being cut by the tightness he had the rope, as he passed it between my buttocks and my pussy, with my thighs apart, stroking the soft silken inner thigh, as I humped air trying to make his fingers touch what my daddy used to do on bath nights.
Every so often he would push the elastic of my panties down a little more, over my hips and buttocks, until they bunched where the rope crushed my clitoris and I moved frustratingly against it, nothing I did gave me leverage to orgasm, only his tongue had that power and I begged and cried for release as his tongue lapped all around my genitals and nipples, I lay naked and exposed, trussed like a Christmas Turkey, with his dirty underpants stuffed into my mouth to muffle my screams when I came and he cut the chord to push his fat cock into my cunt.
This was a girls introduction to the tease of BDSM, being forced in your own mind to do things sexually alien to you makes for better orgasms all around, watching as men do as they wish to every part of you naked bound body, is akin to having an orgasm with out air in your lungs, light headedness as a man once sat on my pretty fave and deprived me of air while another fucked me to see if I got any tighter around his cock as I asphyxiated with his cock jammed into my throat.
I don’t know about the man fucking my pussy, or the one with his cock in my throat, but I passed out and need to be revived, clearly still mid orgasm, off my own making, it truly was heavenly, but dangerous to replicate, there had to be another way and I wanted to find it.
Forced sex against your will has its moments, like having your wrist bound to lessen your resistance to an aggressors need for you. We call it by name, but here in this story of my needs, I prefer not to use it, as men might think me a slut or tart out cock hunting for my own pleasuring.
When the old man on the bottom landing passed away, they found several pairs of my school knickers in his drawers and labelled him a pervert.
I remember on a night out I returned home around two in the morning and stopping outside his door and pondering going inside and sleeping with him, I was tipsy and horny and as he slept, meant making a noise to arouse him to let me in.
Instead I sat on the stone stairs, feeling the cold concrete on my bare bottom I rubbed myself thinking of him. The tiredness and the alcohol I had consumed overwhelmed me and I fell asleep in my disrobed state.
I awoke to find a man between my thighs performing cunnilingus on my wet pussy and my naughty body responding to his tonguing, grateful of his attention to my hungry crotch, when suddenly and without warning, upon realizing I was fully conscious of his attention to me, he got up and turned my around in one powerful movement and as I was face down on the landing, he entered me in my anus and had painful sex with me, the slight lubrication from my vaginal discharge was enough to facilitate his cock to go inside my bum, but each and every thrust was un-lubricated, until he ejaculated into my anal flesh and his semen acted as thus.
I was found where I lay by the milkman delivering the morning milk and awoke to his touching me intimately. My clothes had been removed and whole, not ripped in a sexual frenzy, clearly and according to the same milkman, it looked as though I willing let the man fuck me in my bum, and that was why he was having a free feel with my genitalia, as I slept on the stairs.
By now I had left my teens and began to years for them, men I had fucked as a girl, had died from old age and I began to suspect as I grew older and more sexually experienced, I wished I had known then what I knew now, it would have made my life more interesting for me. Back then surrendering to a man was about his pleasures not my own, I was the curiosity providing the pleasure, milking out of it what I could for myself.
I was 22 and it was as if I had stopped growing, stopped maturing, I had the breasts of a girl mid puberty with 3/4″ nipples that made me wet when they rubbed against my shirt, so I used sellotape to keep them down, like a man with an erection pushing it between his thighs to hide his excitement for a girl he wants badly.
If I pulled my hair back I looked seven years younger, if I wore it in a ponytail, I was tomboyish, in bunches, I was ripe for plucking and even old men could go without Viagra, that thought alone that my hairstyle could take me back to that forbidden age, added vitality to my loins and my poor husband at 36, 15 years my senior was confused, when he came home one night and found me dressed in pop socks with ‘Converse’ basketball boots, short skirt and a pair of old dirty white panties, waiting to be fucked, as it had been three months since my last penetrative sex.
I did excite him, especially when I lifted the short hemline to show my dirty panties, ‘I wore these the night I let an old man fuck me’, determined to arouse his passion for me, but his diabetes medication had rendered him impotent and my schoolgirl innocence failed where in the past it worked with men I surrendered myself to.
It was two when I awoke with the sound of a passing car, my husband asleep with his back to me, his sleeping pill acting as a cure for his insomnia, something I initially accepted as it was easy to masturbate myself to make up for his lose of sexual appetite.
I knew of a few bars and clubs in the city that remained open at this hour and thought about going out to pick up a guy for a quick fuck and at that thought, swung my legs out of bed and started getting dressed, like I did for my husbands return.
Bunches it was then, but when I finished, I doubted I would be allowed into any bar or club, I was too fucking obvious.
I decided to cruise, use my husbands sports car, like a little rich girl, there was something about that imagery where rich girls fuck men for their own pleasure and god help any guy who has not cum when she has, she will push him away and look for another, I liked that idea and gathered up his keys and quietly closed the front door, hoping to return with my pussy full of strangers semen, when I climbed back into bed beside him.
This is how real women think when it comes to infidelity.
I drove instead to a place I knew from my past where men had taken me for sex, up by the ‘Salisbury Crags’, high above the city and dark enough for men to do what they wanted, I slowed down then stopped, taking off my old panties and put them in the glove box, I did not want to take the chance they might be ripped in some violent meeting, and continued slowly up towards where the lake was and where many cars were parked, feeling a pang of jealousy, knowing that inside each car a girl was getting some strangers cock.
I sat quietly feeling the early morning cool air between my thighs as I stroked the soft pinkness of my cunt watching for a man to come to me, even the paint on my car was black, only the whites of my thighs and Converse boots were illuminated on that dark night, when he towered over me wanking himself I jumped in surprise, but he reached for my pigtail and turned my face into his cock, I did not scream, instead stifled it in my throat as I sucked on him, harder by each passing minute until my mouth gave him air enough to hear my voice ask him to fuck me.
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